Centuries of charm and antiquity surround Barcelona Battery Bikes. Hidden in the heart of the Gothic Quarter, we invite you to explore our amazing city by the sea. With hours of bicycle lanes leading you to Sagrada Familia, Camp Nou and the Olympic Stadium, enjoy the neighborhoods of Gracia, El Raval and Poble Nou that promise to excite the imagination while revisiting the ancient past. And with our electric bikes, also known as pedelecs, your Barcelona city tour, The Twilight cruise or bike rental will always be something you'll surely Tweet.See what some satisfied customers have to say on Tripadvisor.

Don't Worry. Be Happy ever after.

Happy endings are what BarcelonaBatteryBikes is about. You can rent our bikes, safe in the knowledge that our batteries are guaranteed to last all day. No need to carry a charger. No need for an electrical outlet. No worries.

Wiggle. Wiggle. And wiggle some more as galloping fingertips race across the laces of this satin jacquard corset. For a moment, they stop, tug and release your unbridled fantasy. The strength and support of the underwire cups could no longer contain your womanly wows. A deep penetrating gaze trips over the adjustable straps and garters landing softly at the center of the matching G-string.

Standing in line, she ponders, wonders and agonizes for what seemed like hours. “Why didn’t he kiss me?” The residue from the night before sticks to her memory. With out apology or concern, she begins to adjust her garter. One of the six hooks, hiding beneath the veneer of her day job, had become undone. She hikes up her skirt. “I tossed my hair,” she mumbles. A small corner of her black patent G-string screams for attention. To everyone, she is invisible. Her phone rings. On the other end, a voice simply says, “Can I see you tonight?”

The spicy nature of her relationship was legendary. Every New Year’s, Jax would throw a little “Bam!” into the vat of love she shared with her beau. This year, black satin was the secret ingredient. Hugging the curves and shadows of her petal soft skin, she chose a strapless corset that flirted with his boiling point. It had spaghetti like strings up and down the spine that gave his nimble fingers a partner to dance with. Jax and her beau had a very hot new year.

As the ball fell, so did her expectations. Every new year’s eve was the same. “I love you honey” and a kiss. Jax clung to the idea that 2007 was gonna be different. Her confidence, textured in black satin, hugged the curves and shadows of her petal soft skin. Come hell or high water, his hands would untie the black spaghetti like string that tamed her passion. “This year I’ll ask him”, was her New Year’s Resolution.

The night before was like no other. James Brown dripped from the speakers. Shrewd joy danced between swirvy columns of hard, soft and the occasional very soft body. Jax was her name. Available was his. Again and again beads of sweat disappeared behind the tenderness of her black leather corset. This was her weapon of mass devotion. Jax named it “Lucile”. Desi and Lucy were the polaroid of love. And on this nite, her blouse with the opacity of a Macon county screen door, was set to stun. He was THE catch. Before long, she knew that Lucile and a flute or two of Dom P. would wash away his inhibitions. This New Year’s, they were Siamese. Joined at the hips.

The magazine butterflied as it crashed against the mirror. Entrails of subscription leaflets fluttered to the sticky floor. Two mile-high litres of Polish Vodka caught and cradled the glossy remains. ALL LIES. ALL EYES. ALLIES she began to scribe on the slick veneer of the hotel bar. No worries thought the barkeep; she only uses lipstick no. 43. It’s organic. And Claire was infamous for having a tube or two tucked in the lacy corner of her 38 double-Ds. This time was no different. Soap and water, again, will erase her memory.

COPY: We would just like to thank mother earth for allowing us to share her space, mother nature for pleasant working conditions, the parking attendants who didn't give us tickets, little Jimmy, Sarah, her little friend form down the street, local government for their efforts to reduce the amount of red tape, the competition, any and all chiropractors, the entire staff of Metro bus drivers and train operators, the vandals who decided not to interrupt our building schedules (thanks to you we made the budgets), our children, your children, the Bomstein Agency for producing this ad, the magazines and/or newspapers running this as, our suppliers, subcontractors (and you know who you are), the community leaders who know a good thing when they see it, our neighbors - even the spooky ones, that really big comet that missed earth, M'dam Rosa (all of your predictions came true), pet lovers who clean up after their pets, and of course, "Builders Magazine" for naming Eakin/Youngentob Associates, Inc.

As Sr. Copywriter for the iconic urban fashion brand Ecko Unltd., we got rapper 50 Cent and his entourage to star in a $1 million print campaign for the G-Unit Clothing Company. "The 50th Brigade" print campaign portrayed a day in the life at the fictional G-Unit training complex, where potential members, 7-15-year-old boys, must prove they're worthy of joining the exclusive unit.

Transcultural Anthropologist

Hiya
The ability to sing off key karaoke, play cutthroat foosball, do yoga poorly, and drink without falling off a boat, are skills I would parlay to ignite a brand’s social ecosystem, and increase brand engagements across multiple channels, as well as empower consumer evangelists, create affinity and build community. And, I'm responsible for Thuggee=mc2. A formula derived from Disruptive pockets of global culture that influence and remix with each other.